


Look but don't touch!

by Silkythecat



Series: Septiplier Inspired by Manga^^` [2]
Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (Student)phycologist!Mark, Inspired by Manga, M/M, Mysophobia!Jack, collage AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7277191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silkythecat/pseuds/Silkythecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is a music student with a case of rather severe mysophobia.<br/>Mark is an engineer and phycology student who want to help.<br/>How could this ever go wrong!?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ten Count (Manga)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/208891) by Takarai Rihito. 



"Sean! Your assignment is late again!” The Music professor stopped Sean a step away from freedom.  
He sighed and turned around, re-adjusting his gloves, almost habitually.  
“I'll get it to ye, Sir.”  
“By next week please. It’s already two weeks overdue.”  
“Yes Sir. I will.”  
“You said that last time, Sean”  
The Professor was wasting his breath as Sean was already gone.

He had to get out this building. It was to enclosed. Too many people. Too many surfaces. With his music lecture concluded, he was done for the day, despite it being only just past twelve.  
Sean hurried down the corridor to the nearest exit, head down, his fingers fiddling with his gloves absentmindedly.  
It wasn't that he hated people, he just hated all the germs that came with people.  
The hot air inside a classroom was the perfect breeding temperature for all the little pathogens that come in on the skin and clothes of others. It wasn't that the college wasn’t clean, it was perfectly acceptable for most. Just not him, all the germs, little bits of skin and bacteria everywhere, on the lockers, on the floor, in the air... He was getting nervous just thinking about it.

Rushing through a corridor between classes, with your head down; a collision was inevitable. And of course it had to happen to Sean.

It wasn't graceful. And it resulted with Sean on the horrible infested floor looking up at another student. He had dark tousled hair and big brown eyes, currently looking very apologetic.  
“Oh shit! I'm sorry dude, my fault.”  
The other boy extended a hand offering help.  
Suppressed by the boys smooth deep voice, Sean took it almost instinctively, but instantly regretted it. The contact was alien, all the germs, flowing from surface to surface… great, another pair of gloves to bin.  
He hurriedly stood up, took his gloved hand back and brushed himself down vigorously.

“Sorry about that. Wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m Mark, by the way”  
Mark pulled a sheepish grin and extended his hand again, this time for a handshake.  
Sean saw the hand and froze at the thought of all the little residents on it. He looked up at the door to escape, just behind Mark and decided to make his escape, winding round the chocolate-eyed boy, muttering “ ‘s fine.” and leaving the extended hand untouched.

Sean rushed home, feeling ever dirtier until he thought he was going to have to take off his entire layer of skin to ever feel clean again. He was itching and sweating and all the germs were everywhere and…  
He was freaking out again…

Upon arrival at his front door, Sean was shaking so much that the keys wouldn't go in the damned lock and kept slipping in his gloves. He angrily pulled off the now uselessly dirty glove and jammed the germ covered key into a germ covered lock, stepping inside and slamming the door; shutting out all the outside airborne pathogens.

The next step was to wash. Obeying his routine, Sean went to the kitchen sink, peeled off his remaining glove and tossed them into the nearby bin.  
He didn't morne them, they were only the semi-clear disposable sort, cheap and numerous.  
Next came the water. Always the hot tap, as near to boiling as his hands could take it. Scrubbing over and over his skin, rubbing away the grime and filth that the naked eye couldn't see. Then the soap. Of rather, disinfectant. He sprayed it onto his hands and resumed his cleaning ritual, knuckles to knuckles, interlocking fingers, under the nails, getting every single nook and cranny, every single potential hiding spot for bacteria.

As he cleaned, Sean found his thoughts wandering back to the boy he has collided with, Mark, was it?  
He certainly wasn't lacking in the looks. If anything, Sean would maybe even call him handsome, but not out aloud, of course.

Then he remembered touching hands and redoubled his efforts of scrubbing. By now his hands were bright red and somewhat raw, but it was the price to pay for cleanliness.  
Sean looked at his hands, all angry and red, then cursed. He knew he shouldn't be doing this. No-one else had a problem with shaking hands. No-one else came home and scrubbed their hands freaking raw!  
He knew he had a problem, but he never thought it was that bad…

Quickly withdrawing his hands from the heated water, shutting off the tap and pulling on another pair of gloves, he retreated to his room and pulled out his laptop, sprayed the keyboard with some pocket disinfect and set about googling how to get help.

 **\- Mysophobia -**  
Also known as verminophobia, germophobia, germaphobia, bacillophobia and bacteriophobia, is a pathological fear of contamination and germs. The term was coined by Dr. William Alexander Hammond in 1879 when describing a case of obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) exhibited in repeatedly washing one's hands.  
\- Wikipedia

Sean snorted. “Sounds about right.”  
Next came googling how to cure it…  
…  
…

 

Sean cursed again and pushed his laptop aside, making space to flop onto his bed. He’d been on that damned wild goose chase for three hours and found nothing much more than temporary relief or psychological treatment that cost more than he could afford.

Deciding to call it a day, he pulled his laptop back, shut it off and stuck it under his bed, before trudging back downstairs to grab some grub before having an early night.

In bed that night, Sean found his mind wandering to Mark again, going over the situation again and again, how he could have reacted differently, how he could have not looked like a jerk, and somewhere in this, he decided he wanted to see him again, even if it was just to apologise for his earlier behaviour.  
He fell asleep, planning how on earth he would find this mystery student Mark, subconsciously fiddling with his wrists where hisbgloves normally would be.  
He completely forgot his music assignment. Again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew coffee could be so stressful?

Sean didn't have a lecture until the afternoon, the next day. He had intended to complete his already late assignment that morning (he remembered about it over breakfast) but here he was, circling the collage for a glimpse of Mark. He didn't dare initiate conversation as that would involve being closer than necessary to people, but after three hours of nothingness, he was beginning to think he may have to.

"Ugh... I've been walking around this campus all damned morning..." Sean muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. He was walking briskly down the maze of corridors, to the side to stay out of people's way, but not touching the walls.  
A loud bell rang out, a siren signalling the end of the period, making him jump and his ears ring from the sheer volume.

"Shit! I'm out of time" Sean cursed and started speed-walking, making a beeline to the nearest exit before the corridors became a hub of people talking and moving and breathing.

So similar to their meeting that moment when he crashed straight into another person, that Sean was beginning to wonder if the universe was playing some sort of prank on him, then he remembered that the exact person he's been searching for for the past few hours was standing in front of him, and quickly apologised to the universe for accusing it of false convitions.

"Wow! I don't know about you, but I am getting a serious sense of Dajàvu here" Mark's smooth voice sounded from above. A hand descended, and this time Sean took it, lightly, with little hesitation. He gave himself a little mental pat on the back for that.  
Mark tightened his grip and practically lifted Sean off the floor.  
Alarm bells went off in his mind, but Sean shoved them down in efforts to come across as a decent human being this time.  
"Err, thanks... Mark? " he was off to a good start...  
"No problem, eh, I never got your name yesterday." Mark seemed to accept that half-baked attempt at starting conversation and even seemed like he hadn't been offended by his behaviour at their previous encounter. What a gentleman!  
"I'm Jack. Sorry about yesterday, it's not you, it's just me" Sean decided to keep his name to himself, it was just easier and stopped cyber bullying over his weirdness, as he almost mechanically apolpgised with the worst repurposed chiché breakup line; ever truthful but horribly cringe-worthy.

"Hey, do you want to share a coffee with me or something later?" Marks sudden invitation surprised Sean, most would have written him off as a weirdo and left him alone by now.

For Sean, his brain started to enter hyperdrive. He had three options, yes, no or bolt. _Shit, Bolt's not an option, because then I'd be exactly where I was this morning_ yes would be the polite and friendly thing to do, since Mark had been so nice, but it involved going out and drinking in a public place and out of a horrible unsanitised cup, and he **did** like coffee, but no would be impolite and get him cast out even more, and then he'd spend the evening regretting and fretting over what could have been and _Skrew it, what choice to I really have?_

The speed the brain can process information is always suprisingly. To Mark, it seemed like an instant answer, but to Sean, it felt like he was about to sign his own death warrant. He did it anyway.  
"Uh, OK. But I apologise in advance for whatever I do or don't do there."

"Come on, get a grip Sean, it's just a coffee." Sean muttered to himself as he adjusted and re-adjusted his gloves while waiting by the front of The Hub, the local internet café. He had arrived 10 minuets early to avoid unnecessary embarrassment for being late, but now he was stuck with extra thinking time, which was quickly forming into an unhealthy mix of regret, aprehension, anxiety and disgust.

However, whatever negative self-damning thoughts had been occupying his brain, they were immediately evicted when Mark strolled into view (10 minuets late).  
He was in a funny green dinosaur tank top with a pair of sky-blue shorts and looked suprisingly cute, but contrastingly informal when compared to Sean's usual pristine look, complete with flat-cap.

Mark stopped in front of Seam and doubled over, breathing heavily, having just run from his house to the café, presumably. Sean just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. It was like that for a minuet or two, and just as Sean was putting together a plan to bolt and pretend he never left the house that afternoon, Mark stood up straight, having recovered most of his breath. 

"Sorry I'm late, I fell asleep- engineering can be tiring, standing up all day working at the lathe and mill and stuff"  
Sean just smiled, but when Mark paused, he realised that he was expected to reply to the otherwise close-ended statement.  
"Err, it's OK. I wasn't waiting long." He stood back and followed Mark into the cafe, to a small table near the edge of the room where they sat down on the soft but cheep feeling chairs. Sean gave himself a mental pat on the back for only hesitating a bit by the door but he had still needed to inconspicuously spray a little disinfectant on the otherwise perfectly amiable chair.  
Mark breezed in and slumped into his chair with no difficulty what so ever, mumbling something about coffee being his exact cup of tea at this moment in time, and Sean found himself being just a little envious of him, being unburdened by the constant fear of illness and disease, and consequently, human interaction. It's not like he **wanted** to fear every little contact made with anything not previously cleaned before his witness.

The Hub, brightly lit and agreeably spacious with power outlets lining it's inviting pale green walls and hidden subtly under high round tables dotted around the centre of the olive-coloured laminate floor; surprisingly only had a handful of customers, all of which were staring at a screen of some sort, taking full advantage of the free Wi-Fi, and were completely oblivious to Mark's slouching and Sean's 'posh' posture. 

"So, you agreed to come out to have coffee with me, but you've only said two sentences, neither of which had more than five words..." Mark trailed off, turning the statement into anothet unspoken question.  
"I'm guess I'm just not good with talking." Sean answered it anyway, looking down at the bleached wood table surface.  
"You just said a sentence with eight words! That's a start! We'll have you taking essays by the hours up!" Mark laughed at his own joke but when Sean didn't join in, he realised he was going to have to try a slower approach.  
"Ok, as you know, my name is Mark Edward Fischbach. I am in the same year as you and I attend the same collage as you, where I study engineering and psycology. Plus, I think you're pretty cute."  
Sean visibly flinched at that last comment but he got over it and responded, as society would dictate.  
"Err, my name is Jack McLoughlin. I... err... Am studying music. And your outfit is... Interesting."  
Mark looked down, as if only just realising what he was wearing and pulled a sheepish grin.  
"I was late! and I had to pull on whatever was closest!" He protested.  
Sean had to laugh at that.

After a few more minuets of breaking the ice, Mark announced that if he didn't get some coffee down him in the next few minuets, he would disintegrate.  
"What do you want? I'll pay since I invited you."  
Sean froze. He's let his guard down, having a good laugh with Mark, but suddenly all the thoughts of the millions of germs floating in a coffee contained in a cup that probably housed a couple million more returned to the foremost front of his brain and understandably , he lost his (drinking-verison-of) apetite.

Mark saw his hesitation and rather than pressure and answer out of him, he just grinned and said "I'll get you what I think you'd like." Before walking over to the counter, leaving Sean to his thoughts again.

He retuned a few minuets later with a thermal cup in each hand.  
"Strong black coffee, boiling hot for you, sir McLoughlin, and a gorgeous caramel latè for me, king lord Fischbach' he announced before placing one carefully in front of Sean and returning to his seat to drink the other.

I say drink, he practically chugged the thing like it was the last drink on earth. A few moments past and he slammed an empty cup onto the table and let a large out an exagarated but satisfied sounding sigh.  
"That oughta wake me up a bit; the price is a bit steep but that was some coffee fit for royalty!"  
It was only then that he noticed that Sean hadn't touched his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have Mysophobia or experience with someone who does, this is purely based in what I think I would be like if I did. Sorry if I offend anyone who actually does have it, and if so, could you tell me what I get right/wrong so I can get it better?  
> I also don't attend to a campus collage, have an/or study engineering, psychology or music (I do art in a smaller establishment) so again, please don't bite my head off for inaccurate information/experience.  
> I do however want you to bite my head off with typos, so I can fix them^^`
> 
> On the other hand, also apologies for a long wait, and a most expectably long wait after this. I don't type regularly, only when I get those bursts of inspiration which can be few and far apart, but stick with anyway^^` 
> 
> Comments welcome^^ any feedback is always appreciated ^^

**Author's Note:**

> If I read yaoi trash, I'm goign to end up writing yaoi trash^^`  
> I don't have mysophobia and I don't study music, engennering or phycology, or go to a normal collage either ^^` so please don't bite my head off over things that do/don't actually happen in real life. (I'm an art student in a specialist art collage with one class of 14 students with an unrealistic fear of ants...)  
> Comments are welcome^^


End file.
